


Morgana uses the Formorroh, results are unexpected

by ticketyboo00



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Finds Out About Merlin’s Magic (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23672401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticketyboo00/pseuds/ticketyboo00
Summary: The Formorroh was in Merlin’s neck now. There was nothing Arthur could do.A voice cried out, “Kill Morgana Pendragon! Kill Morgana!”Merlin stood, gold eyes flashing.Merlin was a sorcerer, and he was going to kill Morgana
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 377





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Let me know what you think of this fic! Suggestions for continuations would be more than welcome

Arthur has been locked up for days. Morgana certainly had a penchant for the dramatic, maybe all sorcerers did. 

The knights, like him, were chained to the walls of the throne room, helpless spectators to Morgana’s horrors. Last night Morgana said she had a treat for them all, and he shuddered to think of what it was. 

Just as he thought of it, the ornate double doors of the throne room blew open. Morgana entered, followed by a company of her soldiers. The soldiers had prisoners. Arthur recognized Bedivere’s young squire, Yvain. His heart lurched as the other prisoner was dragged in, Merlin. His Merlin. 

Merlin’s face was bloody, but his shoulders were straight and he wasn’t cowering. 

He truly was the bravest man Arthur knew if he had spent these days under Morganas… ministrations and had not broken. 

“A treat!” Morgana called out, “a display! A return of loyalty for the brave knights of Camelot.”

Arthur almost rolled his eyes. Were all sorcerers this dramatic?

Yvain, the young squire, was forced to his knees. Morgana brandished something small and slimy looking over her head. 

“The Fomorroh! Do you know what it does, boy?” Morgana asked. 

Yvain shook his head back and forth. 

“The Fomorroh will suck the life force out of you, everything that makes you Yvain will be gone, and in its place there will be just one thought. One thought that will grow until it's consumed you completely. One thought that will be your life's work. You will not be able to rest until it's done.”

Arthur’s stomach clenched. She was going to control all of them through evil snakes? 

Bedivere, the boys master, was brought to the other end of the throne room. His hands and feet were bound and he looked helplessly at young Yvain. 

Yvains head bent forward, and the Fomorroh entered his skin. 

Morgana commanded, “Kill Sir Bedivere Bedrydant.” 

Yvain straighted unnaturally. There was nothing recognizable in his face. Morgana released him from his bonds with a spoken word, then handed him a sword. 

“No!” Someone shouted. It was Merlin. “He’s just a boy, Morgana, spare him!” The soldier holding him struck Merlin’s head with the flat of his sword. 

“Shut up,” the soldier commanded. 

“Well, Merlin, if you’re so eager, you can go next.” 

Merlin looked at Morgana, then Arthur. He was so distracted by the pain in Merlin’s eyes he almost missed Bedivere begging Yvain to recognize him. Yvain said nothing and the sword slid in and out, a distinctive noise Arthur knew all too well. Bedivere crumpled to the ground, silence fell. Only after Bedivere released his last breath did the spell fall from Yvain. 

“Sire? Sire?” Yvain knelt and began to shake him. “Bedivere, wake up! What happened?”

Morgana cackled and Yvain whirled around, suddenly becoming aware of the bloody sword in his hand. 

“Who killed him? Why, you did Yvain. You killed Bedivere.” Morgana was ecstatic at Yvain’s pain. 

Tears coursed down Yvain’s face and he stared at the sword in his hand. 

A soldier silently led Yvain away, past the body of his master. 

“Merlin, Merlin, Merlin,” Morgana crooned, “mine at last.”

“It didn’t work last time, Morgana, what makes you think it will now?” Merlin stated. 

Last time? Morgana had used the Fomorroh on Merlin before? Why didn’t Arthur know about it? How had Merlin escaped? 

“Emrys saved your hide then. He’s not here now. It’s just you, me, and Arthur’s life.”

Emrys? Who the hell was Emrys? 

Merlin laughed, “Don’t be so sure.” 

Morgana’s face twisted. She forced Merlin to kneel before her, and placed the Fomorroh in his neck. “Here is your command, Merlin, kill- “ 

One of Arthur’s knights, he couldn’t see who, interrupted, “kill Morgana Pendragon! Kill Morgana!” 

“No!” Morgana reached to remove the Fomorroh, and to try to command Merlin again, but he skittered out of reach. 

A soldier reached for Merlin, but was suddenly blown backward. 

Arthur was confused. Why would Morgana hurt her own soldier? Arthur got his answer when he saw Merlin’s bright gold eyes. 

Merlin was a sorcerer, and he was going to kill Morgana. 

Morgana gasped, and then screamed, “Emrys!”

Merlin smiled, “Who else, Morgana? And now you have brought about your own doom.”

Eyes glowed gold, and Merlin’s chains unlocked and clanked to the floor. 

Harsh sounds escaped Morgana’s mouth, and a fireball appeared in her hand. She threw it at Merlin (Emrys? Arthur didn’t know anymore). 

Arthur had no time to react. He was bound, his servant was a sorcerer, had lied to him, and now he was going to die. 

The fireball stopped inches from Merlin’s face. His grin was decidedly wicked. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Morgana.” 

The fireball increased in size and reversed direction, striking Morgana on the shoulder. 

Morgana let out a cry, “Aithusa!”

Merlin made a face. “Summoning dragons? You must be truly desperate.” He made a gesture, and the ground opened up under Morgana, running a crack through the throne room. 

The knights stared at the scene unfolding before them. Many of them knew Merlin, none knew he was a sorcerer. Gwaine looked particularly devastated. Arthur assumed nobody knew, and that made the betrayal a little easier to bear. 

Morgana scrambled out of the sinkhole, Merlin watched her in distaste. He had eyes for no one else, least of all, the white dragon bursting into the throne room. 

“Aithusa! Help! Kill him!” 

Merlin’s voice dropped, and in a voice Arthur had never heard, commanded “νεαρός δράκος δεν τη βοηθά. αυτός δεν είναι ο αγώνας σου” (young dragon, do not help her. This is not your fight) 

Aithusa let out a cry in response, but flew behind Merlin in solidarity. 

“Aithusa!” Morgana turned to him in anger, “why does she betray me?” 

“I am the Last Dragonlord. I found her, hatched her, and named her. You think Aithusa would disobey me?” Merlin laughed, “Morgana, you are a fool.” 

A dragonlord? Arthur thought, no, he knew that Balinor was the last of the dragonlords. Was that why Merlin was so upset over his death? One more dragonlord dying, leaving him alone? 

Hang on, when had Merlin been raising dragons? He had a day job for crying out loud. Was he so incompetent that he allowed his dragon into Morgana’s clutches? 

Merlin’s hand raised, and a familiar sword landed in his grip. Hey! That was Arthur’s sword! 

Vines grew over Morgana’s body, but no matter how fast she burned them, more grew in their place. She screamed and cried out as Merlin walked closer, Arthur’s sword in his grip. 

“I am sorry, Morgana. I blame myself for what you’ve become.” 

“You can’t kill me. Not with mortal weapons.”

“This is no mortal blade, forged in the breath of a dragon for the Once and Future King. It can most certainly kill you.”

Merlin was a king? Or was Arthur this Once and Future King? He was being bombarded with so much new information he wouldn’t be surprised if Uther walked in and joined the battle as a sorcerer. 

Morgana didn’t seem to believe him, even as Merlin walked closer, sword still in his grip. “How do you know?”

“I would have thought that was obvious. I made it.”

“Goodbye, Morgana.” The sword slid in. The sword slid out. Morgana’s body collapsed as the vines holding her disappeared. 

Morgana, Arthur’s sister, was dead. 

The throne room was in ruins, a sinkhole opened in the middle, and a young dragon pacing by the doors. 

Merlin stood over Morgana's body, mirroring young Yvain from before. 

He seemed to awaken, and spun around to face Arthur. 

There was fear on his face. Merlin hadn’t looked afraid from the whole encounter with Morgana and he looked at Arthur with fear. Was there something behind him? No, he was afraid of Arthur, of his reaction. 

“Arthur,” Merlin approached nervously, “don’t freak out.” 

Arthur’s chains were undone, the gag fell from his mouth. He didn’t even notice, all he saw was Merlin standing before him. 

The liar, the sorcerer, the dragonlord. 

Emrys. Merlin. 

Who was he? 

Arthur’s training kicked in. Who cared about his motives? He was a threat, but a loyal one. Perhaps Arthur could still command him?

“Get out of my sight, but don’t you dare leave this castle.”

Merlin nodded, disappointment evident in his face. The weight of years settled on his shoulders, and he left the throne room, Aithusa (a dragon!!) trailing behind him. 

Arthur set about releasing his men from their chains with keys snagged from Morgana’s corpse. In death, she looked like the woman he knew as his sister, the fiery ward he grew up with. 

Right. His men. He unlocked them one by one. 

No one said anything, the moment felt sacred. 

The first one to speak was Gwaine. 

After he was released, he met Arthur’s gaze. 

“You’re a bastard, Pendragon. He kills for you and you’re angry with him? Grow up.” 

Gwaine left the room, obviously intending to follow Merlin. 

“Sir Gwaine,” Arthur’s voice felt raw from lack of use, and the formal title felt unwieldy, “did you know?”

“No I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what kind of man he is. A good one. A loyal one.” Gwaine did leave them, footsteps fading into silence. 

Arthur stared at the ruins of the throne room. 

What now?


	2. Gwaine, Merlin, Aithusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine finds Merlin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got inspired by comments, here is a second chapter!

Gwaine raced after Merlin, fleeing the throne room. He had always known Merlin was special, but never realized how special. No matter what Merlin was, Gwaine was still his friend and he had been thrown out of enough places to know the best cure was a friend by your side. 

“Merlin! Merlin! Wait up!” 

Merlin stiffened, then turned. He recognized Gwaine and forced a smile, “Gwaine.”

“Listen, mate, Arthur’s a wanker. You shouldn't listen to him.” Merlin started to shake his head, but Gwaine wasn’t having it. 

“No, listen to me. Princess is wrong more often than he’s right, and he’s wrong about this. What you did back there? That was bloody amazing. Never seen anything like it. You’re bloody amazing.” 

Merlin did smile then, and Gwaine felt a tide of relief wash through him. 

“Yea, he can be a bit of a prat I suppose.” 

“That’s right. And while prats complain about how awful it is to have a super amazing sorcerer on their side, sorcerers and knights go have fun,” Gwaine wiggled his eyebrows, “What are you in the mood for? A little drink? A lot? A whole tavern?” 

“Can’t leave the castle. King's orders.”

“Oh, you wound me, Merlin. Your lack of faith is upsetting. We’re headed to my room, come on,” Gwaine said, tugging on Merlin’s arm. 

Merlin looked at him doubtfully, “Even the dragon?” 

Gwaine looked from Merlin to Aithusa back to Merlin. “Who am I to deny the company of my best mate and his pet?” 

Merlin smiled, and Gwaine grinned right back.

“Well, who am I to refuse?”

The knight dragged one sorcerer and one dragon up the stairs to his rooms, where said knight and sorcerer were about to get drunk. 

The hours passed on by. Gwaine felt successful and proud. Merlin didn’t look nearly as stressed, chattering away happily about a troll and something about Magic and Strength? Gwaine couldn’t understand him. 

“-so, I gave him the bracelet, then you lot burst in like I was standing there doing nothing! Honestly I’d never been more offended in my life. I had just killed a man and Arthur was happy about some trident. Honestly.” 

Maybe Gwaine should pay attention instead of admiring Merlin’s smile and the animated way he moved his hands when he talked. Merlin was a silly drunk, so it didn’t matter if Gwaine’s response made sense or not. 

“Ah well, that’s Arthur for you. Always got his head up his arse.”

That response had worked for the last three stories, maybe it would work on this one too. 

“Yea. Like today,” Merlin said. His gaze was fixed on the floor, suddenly more sober than he had been. Apparently it was time to talk now. 

“Listen mate, Arthur’s just a bloke. He’s upset, he’ll throw things, then he’ll accept it. And if he doesn’t,” Gwaine sucked in a breath, fixing his tone to be mock-noble, “then he’ll have me to answer to.”

Merlin laughed at the silly expression on Gawain's face, then softened. “Thank you, Gwaine. You’re a true friend.” 

“Seriously though, Merlin, Arthur tries anything funny, you say the word and we’re out of there.”

“We?”

“Yea. For as long as you’ll have me, my friend,” Gwaine looked up at Merlin. Merlin was drunk, but he wasn’t drunk enough to miss that expression, the implications. 

Merlin seemed to realize he was drunk, and said firmly, “Tomorrow. We will talk about that tomorrow.” 

Gwaine accepted the statement for what it was, not rejection. Merlin wouldn’t acknowledge what Gwaine had said until he knew his own fate. Gwaine understood. He’d wait for Merlin, however long it took. 

Aithusa crooned. Gwaine had almost forgotten he had a godsdamned dragon resting in front of his fire. 

The dragon seemed to act like a signal for Merlin. “It’s late, I should be headed back.” 

Gwaine shook his head, overcome by the urge to keep his friend with him, “You don’t need to. My bed is big enough for two.” He suddenly shut his mouth with an audible ‘click’. Gwaine definitely intended to have Merlin in his bed at some point, but not when he was drunk and on the verge of losing everything he cared about. 

Merlin flushed bright red, all the way up to his ears, and Gwaine scrambled to fix the situation. 

“Not like that! Not yet, anyways,” he said with his usual leer. Merlin snorted, but relented. 

“Alright. Later, then,” with a devilish grin Gwaine had never seen before. 

The sorcerer climbed into the knight’s bed, a respectful distance away. 

The candles went out with a faint word from Merlin, the room plunged into darkness, punctuated by the breath of two men and a sorcerer. 

“Handy trick, that,” Gwaine said. 

“Yea, I suppose it is,” Merlin sounded like he was smiling. 

Merlin’s hand snaked over the covers and grabbed Gwaine's hand, pulling it to his chest. 

Gwaine felt the sorcerer’s breaths even out as he tumbled into sleep. He had been given something precious here. The trust of a man who could trust no one, a promise of a future if he had one. No matter what the day may bring, Gwaine vowed he would protect Merlin, protect his friendships, no matter the cost. 

Gwaine fell asleep to the rhythms of a sorcerer’s heartbeat, and the gentle snores of a dragon.


End file.
